Chapter 4: Say My Name

"We're here for Rhona," Rhett said into the microphone.

His voice was flat and low, and it carried to the back of the lot without effort.

I stood behind a row of pickup trucks with my visor down and my heart pounding.

"I'm not going to say she died well," he said. "I'm going to say what she did."

Dahlia lowered her head beside him.

"Rhona took a payout from this club," Rhett said. "Four hundred thousand dollars. She signed for it in her own hand."

A murmur ran through the crowd.

"She left a note with it," he said. "The note said to tell me she was gone."

I had never signed anything.

I had never seen a note.

"So that's what we're burying today," Rhett said. "A woman who took the money and left. As far as this club is concerned, she's dead."

Nobody clapped. Nobody moved.

Morton stood at the foot of the steps with a stack of the white cards in his hands, passing them out.

Dahlia reached up and touched Rhett's sleeve.

I took a step.

Then another.

I walked out from behind the trucks and down the middle of the gravel with my boots loud on the stones.

Heads began to turn.

A biker in the third row stepped aside for me, and then the row behind him did, until I was walking down an aisle nobody had made on purpose.

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